


Death Builders

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally published in the zine Black Magic #4 and also in Black Ops #1 and Watch Your Six #2 under the pen name Becca Koldfurr.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Death Builders

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Black Magic #4 and also in Black Ops #1 and Watch Your Six #2 under the pen name Becca Koldfurr.

**GenTech** **Building**

**South Florida**

 

Dr. Leonard Mally smiled as he waved at the young woman sitting behind the security desk.  Holly Mason grinned and fluttered her fingers back at him.  Their harmless flirtation had been going on for almost three years, but Mally was old enough to be the young woman's grandfather.  Still, the petite brunette seemed to enjoy the platonic teasing as much as he did.

Holly reached out and pressed a button, releasing the security door and allowing Dr. Mally out of the secured research laboratory area and into the "public" portion of the large GenTech building.  He tipped his non-existent hat at her, then headed straight for the two-story glass face at the front of the building, passing by full-sized trees and an inlaid tile fountain that bubbled twenty-four hours a day in the atrium that greeted visitors to the massive ten-story building.  Reaching the ten-foot wall of glass, he reached out and pressed the button that automatically opened one of the two smaller glass doors, then stepped outside into the balmy south Florida evening.

He walked slowly toward one of the employee parking lots, enjoying the warm weather and the cool breeze that lifted the few remaining strands of gray hair off the sides of his otherwise bald head.  He hadn't minded losing his hair nearly so much after he discovered his wife's crush on the actor Patrick Stewart.  He fancied that he looked a great deal like the popular actor, and Julia seemed to agree, though he did wish she'd quit insisting that he get his remaining hair clipped short like Stewart's.

Just beyond the nearly tropical landscaping that surrounded the large building complex, he used his keycard to enter the private lot reserved for the biomedical employees.  His car sat, waiting for him just beyond the gate.  Fishing into his pocket, Mally found his keychain, then pointed the small square device attached to the ring and pressed a button, disabling the car's alarm system and unlocking his doors before he reached the gold-colored four-door sedan.

Opening the driver's door, he tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat, then slid in behind the wheel, hoping that he'd find the traffic thinned out by the time he reached the freeway.  He backed carefully out of the space, his eyesight not what it used to be, then headed for the exit, slowing as he neared the heavy rolling gate.  He came to a complete stop, then pressed the button to send his window whirring down.  Fumbling in his jacket pocket again, he removed his keycard and inserted it into the small machine positioned next to the road and waited for the light to shift from red to green.  Once it did, he removed his card and waited for the heavy gate to roll open.

He was almost ready to pull out into the street when four men on foot rushed in around the still-moving gate.  As they dashed to Mally's car, the old man reached hastily for the button to lock his doors, then to the one to close his window.  But before the glass whirred securely back into place, one of the men reached the car door.  And, using what looked like a can of spray paint, the ski-masked man depressed the nozzle, sending the contents throughout the interior of the car.

Dr. Mally coughed, his hands slipping from the button and steering wheel into his lap as he passed out, his head lolling back against the headrest.  His last thought was that it must be most uncomfortable, wearing ski-masks in south Florida.  A second man reached into the pocket of his black fatigue pants and pulled out a device identical to the one on Mally's key-chair and pointed it at the car.  The door locks disengaged with a _pop_.

Swiftly, the four men removed Dr. Mally and carried him to a waiting green minivan that had pulled up in front of the exit.  The men tossed the scientist onto one of the long seats, three of them rapidly climbing in after him.  The last of the four men jogged back to the scientist's car and climbed in behind the wheel.  Pulling out, he watched in the rearview mirror as the gate closed behind him, locking securely in place.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Washington** **D.C.**

**The Next Morning**

 

Callihan paced across his spacious wood-paneled office and back again, waiting for Dom to arrive.  She did, silently crossing the thick carpeting and dropping into one of the plush padded leather chairs, a cup of tea cradled in her hands.

"What's up?" she asked, then took a sip, enjoying the flavor.

Callihan rounded his large teakwood desk and dropped into his own leather chair with a loud sigh.  "It looks like someone's got an agenda, and they're kidnapping the scientists needed to carry it out," he said bluntly, picking up the single file folder that sat on his desk blotter.  He stared at the "eyes only" security tab for a moment, then handed it to the woman.

Dom set her cup down on the expensive desk and accepted the folder.  Callihan immediately moved the cup to a soakstone coaster.  It was an old game that they had played for years.

Drawing her legs up into the chair like a large cat curling up and getting comfortable, Dom opened the file and began to read.  When she was done she handed it back to Callihan and watched him run a hand nervously over his gray-streaked red hair.

"Biochemists, molecular biologists, virologists, sounds dangerous.  What's the common denominator of their work?" she asked.

Callihan shrugged, then leaned back into his chair.  "Hanta virus, AIDS, Ebola.  They're all involved in some aspect of research around those nasty little shits.  And, as

you can see, they're an international group, people working in the States, Canada, England, France and Germany; four men and three women – so far."

"Any idea who might be behind it?"

Callihan shook his head, saying, "No, not yet.  That's where you come in, my dear.  We need you to find out who's behind this, and where they've taken these people."

"Assuming they're not dead."

"They're not," Callihan said, his tone sure.  "They're too important, too valuable to simply kill, unless we're dealing with a lunatic.  But whether this is for ransom or something more sinister, we simply don't know."

"I assume you'd like to know what they had in mind?"

"If possible," Callihan said, nodding.  "But let me make this perfectly clear; the first priority here is getting these people back.  If we lose these minds, the research could be set back more than a decade.  We simply cannot afford that.  The second priority is taking out whoever's behind the kidnapping in the first place.  Then, and only then, if you can find out what they were up to, so much the better.  No doubt it'll be something that we'll be facing again in the future.  It would be nice to know what to expect."

"I'll need someplace to start," Dom said, reaching out to retrieve her cup again.

Callihan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his broad chest.  For a man in his late-fifties, the Irish American was still in exceptional physical condition and the tight polo shirt he wore accented the ample muscles in his arms, shoulders and chest.  "A place to start?  Dom, you're slipping."

The woman grinned and shook her head, her black hair moving like waves in the wake.  "You don't have anything, do you," she stated rather than asked.

Callihan shook his head.  "Afraid not, sweetheart.  You'll be starting from scratch. But I have set aside considerable resources to help you."

Her cheeks puffed as her blew out a long breath.  "Okay, but this might take some time," she warned, standing.

"The sooner the better," Callihan stated unnecessarily.  "As I said, we've assigned every available resource we can spare to work on this.  If they turn up anything, you'll be the first to hear."

"Well, I can't ask for more than that," Dom said, her thoughts already turning to the assignment and who she might be able to pry information out of.

"Be careful, sweetie," Callihan added.  "Whoever these people are, they're very professional."

The tall, black-haired woman smiled dangerously as she stood.  "So am I," she purred.

Callihan chuckled.  "Go get 'em, tiger."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

# Lubny, Moldavia

 

Nineteen days and almost 100,000 man-hours – each one ground out around the clock by over two hundred field operatives and research specialists – later, they had narrowed the search for the missing scientists to a small town outside of Kishinev, the capital of Moldavia.  Lubny was probably named after the small city of the same name in Ukraine, and the community, no larger than a good-sized village really, had grown up around a castle built during the reign of the Ottoman Turks.  The brooding stone structure dominated the local landscape, poking up out of the trees that clung to a cliff-side like some stone monster rising up out of the shadows to do battle.

A narrow, poorly maintained road hugged the sheer, forested cliffs that twisted up to the rear entrance of the structure.  The front entrance had once opened onto the town's major thoroughfare, but the arch was bricked in by private owners, who wanted to turn the castle into a private, exclusive resort.  Several hundred meters into the woods, the road curved through a small a clearing that offered a splendid view of the castle.  A sign labeled it a "scenic view," and Dom had to agree.  From the clearing the castle seemed to be perched upon a rocky cliff some fifty meters above the road.  Hiking up into the trees, she could see that the castle was small as European castles went, with little to the place save an irregular outer wall enclosing a four-story keep.  From her vantage point she could also see that the road continued, passing over a narrow steel and concrete bridge that spanned a natural mote – a crevice plunging straight to the boulders rising above the road below her position.  Beyond the bridge was the squat gate tower that led to the bailey.

Satellite photos had revealed part of the security the bulky complex was equipped with and Dom's careful surveillance uncovered the rest.  She saw no evidence of the scientists, but her casual conversations with the locals who worked at the castle suggested that the missing men and women were being kept in the keep's bedrooms at night.  During the day they were working in one of the banquet halls and in what had once been the dungeon.

But most interesting of all, she saw Victor Adwar arrive at the castle five days after she had begun her surveillance.  Adwar was a well-known arms dealer and part-time terrorist, but she had heard that he'd begun branching out.  _What're you planning?_ she silently asked the man as his black BMW pulled up to the gate tower of the castle for the third day in a row.  Two men emerged, and as soon as they recognized Adwar, they dashed to the large iron gates, pulling them open so the car could enter into the bailey.  While they were open, she saw a few other civilian cars parked inside.

 _Adwar must be leaving pretty quick_ , she reasoned when the guards didn't secure he entrance behind him.

Through field glasses she watched the admittedly handsome man stride across the flagstone pavement, up five steps, past two more sentries, and through the high-vaulted arched doorway of the keep.  The doorway opened into what promised to be an impressive entry hall.

A good sniper could take care of Adwar from her position.  A single shot close to 800 yards would remove him, but that still left the scientists inside.  She was going to need help.

Inching off the rise where she lay, Dom headed back to the small house she was sharing with an older Moldavian woman and her five cats.  Mrs. Iasi was actually Romanian, but she'd married a Moldovian man who worked half the year in Romania and half in Ukraine.  They had moved back to his village, Lubny, in the early 1960s.  Her ideas were progressive by the standards of the day.  As a result, by 1967 she had been recruited by U.S. operatives working in the region, keeping an eye on the Soviets. Over the years she had provided a small amount of useful information to the West, but her primary usefulness was her ability to put operatives up in her home, especially now that her husband was dead.  This time she was hosting Dom, introducing her as her dead husband's cousin from Hungary.  Dom's black hair and unusual looks were easily attributable to gypsy blood, and her command of the language allowed her to move about Lubny, asking the questions she needed to ask without raising suspicions.

Once back at the woman's small cottage, Dom ate a small meal, then waited until it was dark to set up the fifteen pound SATCOM unit she had brought with her.  Opening the flap with the antenna, she set up the small dish and aimed it somewhere near where the satellite moved in a synchronous orbit over the equator.  When the antenna was properly aligned, she heard a soft beep.  The internal computer ran through a series of automated self-checks and calibrations before blinking that all was ready.  The small radio gave her instant communication via the satellite with anyone, anywhere in the world, but in this case she needed to contact Callihan.

Taking the small keypad, she typed in her message: "Runaways found.  Need help to get them all home.  Small specop team best – SEAL or Delta?  Sniper a must.  Will check for messages 0600 local.  Voudou."

She reviewed the message, then pressed the button to encrypt it, sending it a moment later in a quick burst.  Now all she had to do was wait for Callihan to find the people she needed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Washington** **D.C.**

**The Next Day**

 

Xavier Trout crossed the busy restaurant, his gaze automatically sweeping over the men and women sitting at the widely scattered tables.  Heading for a table in a secluded corner, he wondered what the Vigil wanted from him this time.  Sitting down at the small round table, draped with an expensive plum-colored linen cloth, he nodded at the man waiting for him.  "Callihan," he greeted.

The handsome Irishman smiled warmly.  "Xavier, you're looking well."

"Thank you, but I sincerely doubt you invited me to breakfast at this overpriced eatery to inquire about my health."

Callihan chuckled softly and grinned.  "Of course not, but I hate talking business on an empty stomach.  And while it might be overpriced, you won't find a better omelet in D.C."

Trout grinned.  His relationship with Callihan was a long and complicated one, the Irishman being the one who had recruited him to the Vigil in the early 1980s while he was still on active duty with the Army's Delta Force.  He was also one of a small handful of people Trout labeled a true friend that he could trust.

"I see," he replied.  "Well, then, I suggest we eat so we can get down to business.  I assume this is time sensitive?"

"Of course," Callihan replied, then gestured for the waiter.

An hour later, their veggie omelets eaten, the two men sipped on gourmet coffee served in fine China cups.  Callihan reached into his pocket and activated a small device that would shield them from anyone who might try to listen in electronically, then explained what he needed from Trout, and why.

When Callihan finished Trout nodded.  "I have the people you need, but you already knew that.  However, I should warn you, they're not used to working with this kind of outside resource.  They'll want to do this thing their way."

Callihan smiled.  "I doubt they'll have any problems with my operative.  Besides, she knows the area, where the goods are being stored, who's in charge of the facility, and she's met some of the locals."

Trout nodded.  "Fine.  As long as your asset knows when to get out of the way, everything should go smoothly.  I'll talk to my people today.  I don't think it'll be a problem to arrange for them to drop in day after tomorrow, but you never know.  I'll call you if there's a delay."

Callihan reached into his jacket pocket and removed an envelope, which he handed to Trout.  "It's all I can share with them at the moment.  There will be more intel on site."

"I'm sure it'll be enough.  Given the situation, it had better be."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**The Silver Star Hotel**

**Hermosa Beach** **, CA**

**The Same Day**

 

Matthew Shepherd carefully positioned the level on the windowsill of his adopted bedroom at the Silver Star Hotel, checking to be sure that it was finally flat.

It was.

Then, setting the instrument aside, he reached for the small can of brick-red paint and a narrow brush.

"Good morning," echoed from the doorway.  "It's really shaping up around here."

"Trout," Matt greeted without turning.  "It's afternoon, not morning, and the place still looks like a disaster zone."

The older man stepped gingerly onto the paint-splattered drop cloth and walked over to join Shepherd.  "But just barely afternoon, and this place is coming along, given where you started from," he offered, looking around at the newly painted tan walls.

"A little at a time," the former Army major replied, dipping the brush into the paint and starting to work on the sill.

"I have a job for you and your people, Matt," Trout said.  "It's very important."

"Everything's 'very important' with you," Matt teased lightly, sweeping the brush over the well-prepared wood sill.

"I'm serious, Matt," Trout countered, his tone going hard.

Shepherd turned to look at the man.  Trout's expression could only be described as grave.  Whatever it was, it _was_ important.  "What's up?"

Trout sighed, then explained, "Several scientists have disappeared, all of them involved with viral research of one kind or another.  We've located where they're being held, but it's going to take some hostage retrieval specialists to get them out.  Not to mention take out the man responsible for their abductions."

"Are we talking possible biological weapons here?" Matt asked, his own expression turning stony.

Trout shrugged and shook his head.  "To be honest, we're not exactly sure.  If you can get the intel out on what he's up to, so much the better, but the priority is the safe return of the scientists and the termination of the man behind their kidnapping."

Matt nodded.  "Everyone's in town and healthy.  When do we go?"

"Tomorrow, early," Trout replied.  "And you'll have the help of an on-site operative this time.  She'll meet you the day after tomorrow."

Matt frowned.  "You know I don't like dealing with agency types, Trout."

"I think this time might be an exception."

Shepherd shook his head.  "I hope you're right."

"She'll have all the information you need on the location of the hostages."

"She?"

Trout held out the envelope that Callihan had given him.  "This should help explain things," he said.  "Work with the woman. She comes highly recommended.  And whatever you do, keep a low profile until you're contacted.  We don't want to tip our hand.  Given what these people are working on–"

"I get the picture," Matt interrupted.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Odessa** **, Ukraine**

**Two Days Later**

 

Sitting in a small pub in Odessa, Ukraine, Shepherd and his four-member team waited for the operative Trout had told him about.  Dressed like well-to-do European tourists, they each sipped on glasses of expensive German imported beer, except C.J., who nursed a club soda, their gazes scanning the mostly young patrons as they came and left.

"What do we know about this contact, Major?" Chance asked quietly, though at their corner table it was unlikely anyone could overhear them.

"Not much," Matt replied, them took another sip of beer, watching a thirty-something woman as she walked up to the bar, leaned over to speak to the bartender, then left.  It struck him as odd, but he wasn't sure why.  "Trout didn't give me a name," he continued.  "All I know is that our contact's a woman."

"Oh?" Margo asked, her eyebrows climbing.

C.J. and Benny Ray both grinned at the woman's half-curious, half-distrusting expression.

Noting the smiles, she asked, "What?"

"Nothin'," the sniper replied, his attention quickly returning to his half-empty glass.

"Jealous?" C.J. ventured casually.

"No," Margo replied softly, her eyes narrowing slightly to put the man in his place.  "Just curious."

The door to the pub opened again and they all casually looked up.  Another woman entered, dressed in a red peasant skirt and a white blouse that was embroidered with brightly colored swirls along her neckline and sleeve cuffs.  Her long black hair was pulled back into a braid and her head was covered with an equally colorful handkerchief popular in that part of the world.  Gold bracelets jingled on her wrists and gold hoops gleamed in her ears.

She was taller than many of the patrons, regardless of their sex, and she walked with a subtle grace and sensuality that attracted the gazes of most of the men in the dimly lit, smoky room.  Somewhat dark-skinned, Matt couldn't even begin to guess what her heritage might be.

C.J. immediately shot to his feet, his eyes wide, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.  "Bloody plonker!" he yelled at the woman as he climbed belligerently onto his chair.

Just taking another sip of his beer, Chance choked and coughed, spraying the mouthful across the table, where it soaked into Shepherd's thick sweater.

Matt jerked back, shooting the man an annoyed glare, but before he could say anything the woman responded.

"Bastard dickhead!" she half-growled in a loud, dangerous tone.  Several of the patrons immediately stood and moved out of her way as she started across the remainder of the room.

"Sorry," Chance said, but he didn't continue when the woman stopped just past the middle of the room, her flashing dark-brown eyes coming to rest on the Brit.

"Bloody pillock!" C.J. bellowed.

Benny Ray and Margo slumped down in their seats, the sniper grumbling, "So much for keepin' a low profile, Boss," as C.J. lunged off his chair, knocking it over, and charged the woman.

"Wanker!" she countered as the Brit reached her, his head low like he intended to butt her in the mid-section.  But she was already moving, stepping around the charging man, sweeping him off his feet with a well-placed kick that lifted one of his  legs up behind him, tripping him and sending him face-first into the dirty floor.

"Bloody cow!" he bellowed as he went down.

"Prick," the woman replied, grabbing his wrist as he scrambled to his knees and swung on her from the floor.  She twisted his wrist over and lifted sharply, forcing C.J.'s face back toward the floor.

"Ah!" C.J. cried, "Bleedin' wally shitface!"

"Think we should help?" Benny Ray asked, starting to stand.

"I don't think you need to bother," Margo replied, her eyes wide with surprise and amusement.

"What did you say, you bloody sod?" the woman asked, pulling back on C.J.'s arm and forcing him to stand.

"You heard me, arsehole!"

She bent C.J.'s arm behind his back and barked something to the bartender in Russian.

Matt shot a look at Margo.

"She told him the fight was over and she'd cover any damages," she explained.

The rest of the team watched in silence as the woman marched C.J. over to the table, then released him with a shove and a muttered, "Damned bugger."

C.J. turned, glaring at her for a moment as he rubbed his aching arm, then he smiled and shook his head, saying, "I was a bleedin' idiot to think it'd be any different."

The woman laughed softly, then opened her arms, inviting the man to her.  He went and she gave the Brit an obviously heartfelt, welcoming hug.  Eyes rounded on the faces of the team.

The difference in their heights gave C.J. the perfect opportunity to bury his face in the woman's cleavage, which he did.  "Mmm, nice view," was the muffled sigh.

Her answer was a sharp box of his ears.  "C.J., you really should've learned your lesson."

"You don't have to be so sore about it," he grumbled, gingerly rubbing the sides of head.  Then he grinned.  "Besides, how could I possibly resist?"

"Sit down, you ratbag," she said affectionately and C.J. did as he was told.

Matt looked from one to the other, then demanded softly, "What the hell was that?"

"Sorry, Major," C.J. said, grinning at the woman as she pulled over a chair and joined them at the table.  "Uh, let me introduce—"  He stopped, his head cocking slightly to the side.  "Uh," he continued, "I never did get your full name."

"Dominique Gierard, but please, call me Dom," she supplied with a grin, then extended her hand to Matt.  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shepherd."

Matt accepted her proffered hand and shook it.  He nodded across the table to the black man sitting there, looking amused.  "Chance—"

"Jason Walker," Chance corrected, standing up just far enough to lean over and shake the woman's hand.

"Chance," she acknowledged, then looked at Margo, who sat at the far end of the table.  "Ms. Vincent, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Margo gave her an intent look, but nodded.  "Charmed."

"And this is Benny Ray Riddle," Matt concluded, nodding at the sniper who sat next to him.

"Mr. Riddle," Dom said as he too stood halfway to shake her hand.

"And it looks like you already know C.J. here."

Dom smiled.  "Mr. Yates and I met while I was vacationing with the SAS."

C.J. snorted and shook his head.  "Something like that anyway.  It's a long story."

"Then it'll just have t' wait," Benny Ray told the Brit.

"I'm assuming that Trout told you about me?" Dom asked, looking at Matt.

Shepherd nodded.

"He also told us t' keep a low profile," Benny Ray added under his breath.

Dom grinned, meeting the sniper's unamused gaze.  "In Moldavia, yes, but this is Ukraine.  And this bar is a hang-out for, uh, Company and Agency types in Eastern Europe."

Matt and the team glanced around.  Several men and women nodded or smiled back at them.  Shepherd sighed heavily; no wonder it hadn't felt right.  "We weren't given much intel on the target," he said, deciding to get down to business.

Dom nodded and explained.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In Mrs. Iasi's home, the team and Dom gathered around to view the latest batch of satellite photos on the color screen of the operative's laptop computer.

"In this shot you can see how steep the cliff is," Dom said.  "According to the experts back home, it's about fifty meters of sheer rock, rising almost straight up from the road to the objective."

She tapped the return key and another image filled the screen.  It was the same castle, but from a slightly higher angle, looking down at a ribbon of dirt at the foot of the cliff.  The image was almost magically clear, a crisp black and white that showed details of leaves and branches, all in perfect focus.  The perspective, looking down the cliff's face, was dizzying.

"This is the road below the castle.  It's not very wide, as you can see.  And any guards in the castle keep who happen to be looking down can see this entire stretch of road.  For that reason alone we'll have to approach at night and wait until daylight to move.  Adwar is never there at night, but he's been arriving around eight in the morning the last few days."

She tapped a key again.  "This is just east of the castle, the castle is out of the picture, down here." She pointed to the location.  "Woods.  Mostly steep slopes.  As you can see, there are some bunkers dug in here and here," she continued, pointing.  "It appears that Adwar assumes that any opposition to his operation will come down from off the mountain, through these woods, and across this crest, rather than up from the road.  And he's probably right – if that opposition was some of the local bandits."

"And a bloody good assumption it is," C.J. added.  "Getting up to the castle from the road would take a bloody mountain goat!"

"Which means you shouldn't have any trouble at all," Matt concluded with a grin.

C.J. shurgged.  "I'm good, Major, but I'm not sure I'm _that_ good."

"Not what you keep tellin' us," Benny Ray teased.

Dom smiled to herself.  It was obvious that the five-member team had been working together for a while.  A familiar, vague longing squeezed her chest.  It would be nice to work with a team like this.  She wondered how long they'd been together, and what they might have already done.

Tap, and another image.  "Okay, here we're looking straight down into the courtyard.  As you can see, it's a stone-floored, walled-in area approximately one hundred meters east to west by thirty meters north to south.  This is the gate tower and the gate, in the east wall, and this is the bridge across the narrow canyon right outside the wall. There are signs that men sweep the woods around the castle, but they don't have a reliable schedule, which probably means they're locals."

Dom pointed to another area.  "All these are private cars.  The number varies from day to day, usually three to six.  The plates all came back as belonging to Balta Industries, which is a dummy corporation belonging to Adwar and one of his known associates, Natov Soroki, a Moldovian national, and a member of the Opposition Party."

Dom reached for a folded stack of yellowed paper and handed it to Shepherd. "These are the most recent set of floor plans for the castle that we could come up with."

"These documents are fifty years old," Margo complained.

"Like I said, it's the best we can do," Dom countered.

The team and Dom silently poured over the schematics, memorizing stairs and blind corners, corridors, rooms and closets.  While there was no guarantee that the interior would still look anything like the plans, the load-bearing walls would be the same, as would the stairways.

"What kind of extraction are we lookin' at?" Benny Ray asked when he was confident he knew the castle layout.

"There are no feasible LZs anywhere near the castle," Dom informed them.  "And the nearest airport is over thirty kilometers away."

"We can make the pick-up at the castle," Chance offered.

"I don't know," Matt countered, "it looks like a pretty tight fit."

"That what those specop flyboys live for," Chance replied with a grin.

"If we use the courtyard we'll have a defensible perimeter while we're waiting for the helo.  Better cover for the hostages," Benny Ray added.

"Good pilot should be able to land a Pave Low III right in this open area," Chance said, pointing at the courtyard.  "We might have to move the cars out of the way if they're not parked here like these are," he added, pointing to the three vehicles sitting under the old stables that had been converted into an open garage.

"Equipment-wise, we're cleared for whatever we need for extraction," Dom promised them.  "If you want a Pave Low III, I'll put the call in now."

Shepherd studied the satellite photo, then nodded, saying, "We want it."

"And we still have the road as a backup," Margo added.  "We can borrow one of the cars if we have to.  If there's usually three or more there, that's enough to carry us and all the scientists."

"What kind of support do we have from the local government?" C.J. asked.

"The President understands what's at stake," Dom said, "and she's willing to turn a blind eye to any unusual activities in this sector.  However, since we don't know who – if anyone – in the government might also be on Adwar's or Soroki's payroll, she's also the only one who knows were here and what we're doing.  If things go to hell, she might be able to help us, _if_ we can contact her."

"The last I heard," Margo interjected, "the President was well aware that some members of her government backed the Opposition Party.  She picked them as a way of trying to gain their cooperation."

Dom nodded.  "That's true, but Soroki's another matter.  He might be in bed with the OP, but his motivation isn't political revolution, it's greed.  And he knows how to find others just like himself in the government and the military."

"So what you're saying is that we're in the middle of a fomenting civil war?" Margo asked, clearly not enjoying the idea.

"It's not quite that bad, but we could find ourselves cut off and on our own," Dom replied.

"Nothin' new about that," Benny Ray drawled, shooting Margo a grin.

She sighed, but grinned.  There was nothing new about that.

"So, how do we get into this castle?" Chance asked.

"As quietly as possible," C.J. replied.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The planning session lasted long into the night, every detail being reviewed, challenged and finally agreed upon by all.  When they were done they had several possible scenarios to work with, but until they were actually on location, there was no way to know for sure which would work best – the high tech intelligence was still limited.

And the preparation paid off.  The team and Dom made their way up the narrow dirt road in an old car Mrs. Iasi had found for them, headlights turned off.  They passed no one else on the road in the dark early morning hours.

When they finally reached a small, level patch of ground, they hid the car in the trees, shouldered their gear and continued the rest of the way on foot.

Two hours before dawn Benny Ray and Chance lay among the rocks and trees of a rise running along the eastern side of the road.  Using their night-vision gear, they studied the four soldiers standing guard at the entrance to the castle.  The men, completely unaware of the black-garbed commandos scrutinizing their movements from the darkness overhead, were not particularly alert.  One man paced back and forth at the entrance of the bailey, nervously checking the road where it curved sharply out of sight.  The other three ignored him as they sat, talking and smoking foul-smelling cigarettes.

The sniper studied the pacer while Chance moved off to check the area for any sign of patrols passing through the area.  The nervous man was young, no more than a teenager.  _Probably a new recruit_ , Benny Ray decided.  _Takin' things way too serious_.

When the sniper was sure that the guards couldn't see them, he maneuvered into a better position above the road where he had a clear view of the castle entrance.

A few minutes later Chance returned saying, "No sign of patrols around here."

"Score one for our side," Benny Ray said as Chance quickly settled into position. The sniper prepared his weapon for Adwar's arrval.  Soon it would be time to implement Plan-X.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In the trees across the road from the southern cliffs on which the castle sat, Matt crouched over the SATCOM unit, speaking quietly into the microphone.  "Copy that, Wagon Train, we'll be expecting you in two-hours, fifteen minutes."

Standing nearby, Margo listened to Benny Ray's report over her earpiece.  Then, as Matt stood, she joined him, quietly turning a red-filtered flashlight onto a map of the area that had been generated from the satellite images.  "Benny Ray and Chance are in position," she said.  "They have four sentries here," she added, pointing to the gate tower.  "The road's clear, and they didn't spot any patrols.  No alarms.  They don't know we're here."

"Okay," Matt said, nodding.  "Our ride's on schedule.  We are to Charlie-Mike."

 _Continue mission_ , Dom translated automatically.  These people were good – very good.  It was a pleasure to work with professionals.

A rustle in the vegetation upslope, then a softly whispered sign and countersign warned them of C.J.'s return.

"How's it look?" Matt asked him as soon as he reached them.

The Brit took the map and drew out the route he'd taken with his finger.  "This hulk really is built into the side of the mountain," he started.  "If we work our way up this cliff here on the southwest corner, we could climb this rock face, fix lines to the edge about here, and rappel onto the outer ward wall."

"Looks good," Matt said, studying the map.  He'd guessed that the castle's weakness would be the cliff rising behind its south wall, a tactical disadvantage that obviously hadn't worried the Ottoman ruler who'd built it.  "But that's the one place they should be expecting trouble."

C.J. nodded.  "There are two guards up on the parapets – at least.  The other approach might be a tad more tricky, but safer," he said.  "It's up this way."  He pointed to a narrow ravine southeast of the outer castle wall and south of the access road.  A stone bridge crossed the natural mote just outside the gate tower.  "I could scale that, no problem, and drop lines back to you.  The ravine's pretty narrow in through here, more like a chimney.  We climb up and come out by the bridge."

"Right outside the main gate?" Margo asked.

"Take out the guards and walk right in," Dom offered.

"Or we climb the wall here… or here," Matt said.  "The gate tower sticks out from the wall about a meter or so."

"A ninja-in-the-night stunt, huh, Major?" C.J. asked with a grin.

"We could probably go right over the top without being seen," Margo offered.

"This has another advantage," Dom said.  "Look."  She pointed to the map.   "The power lines for the place go in right here, next to the gate."

"They'll have a generator," Margo countered.  "They'd have to, given the kind of research they're doing in there."

"But they'll have to get it cranked up," Dom replied.  "It might give us a few minutes' advantage."

"Let's do both," Matt said after a moment.  "C.J., you and Margo hit the gate from the ravine.  Dom and I will scale the wall and cut the power.  Questions?"

There were none.  Shepherd relayed the plan to Benny Ray and Chance, telling them to watch for guards on the parapets who might give them trouble.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Forty minutes before dawn Matt softly punched the Brit's shoulder, saying, "Okay, C.J., go."

"Heads up," the Brit said into his lip mike, "climbing."

Matt, Margo and Dom watched as C.J. ascended the cliff, one arm up, then one foot, then the other arm, the other foot.  From the bottom, it looked like it couldn't be scaled, at least without pitons and climbing gear, but they were too close to the sentries at the front gate to risk striking steel to rock.  Where C.J. was climbing, the ravine was perhaps thirty meters deep, a little taller then two telephone poles stacked one on top of the other.  The man quickly vanished into the shadows, and even in the soft green glow of NVD goggles, it was almost impossible to separate him from the cliff face.

A few minutes later C.J. reached the top and secured his end of the line.  It was time to for Margo to go.  Matt tapped Dom's shoulder and they made their climb, then headed for their infiltration point along the wall.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Margo adjusted the gain on her NVDs.  The guards had started a small fire and the glare was washing out the images when she glanced toward it.  "Benny Ray, these the same guys?" she asked as quietly as he could.

"That's a roger," was the immediate reply in her ear.

Knowing that he was out there, watching out for her, gave Margo a warm glow in the pit of her belly.

From her position, the foursome sat with their backs to the darkness, their hands extended toward the snapping fire.  She and C.J. silently moved closer.  She was glancing at her watch when she heard a click in her earpiece, followed by Matt's voice.  "We're in position.  Over."

C.J. grinned at Margo.  Matt and Dom were up the cliff, waiting on the castle walls.  Too close to the four men now to reply verbally, Margo reached up and pressed the squelch button three times – _okay_.

Everyone was ready to go, and they were running out of time.  Adwar should arrive in twenty minutes, the chopper in thirty-five.  She disliked firing on men from ambush, especially men like these, individuals who seemed to have no idea what they were involved with.  They were probably just locals who'd been hired to keep an eye on the place.  One of them looked to be no more than a boy.

 _A kid caught in a bad situation_ , she sighed to herself as C.J. pulled a flashbang from his thigh pouch and let fly.  They both ducked behind the shelter of a large boulder.

The grenade landed just short of the fire.  Margo heard one of the men yell, then the night was filled with cracking thunder and shrill screams.  As the echo of the final blast still rang in the air, she and C.J. moved, rising together on top of the boulder.  The four men were sprawled in a circle around the fire, two lying flat, two on their hands and knees.  Without hesitation the pair opened fire.

 _Four up, four down_ , Margo thought as she said into her lip mike, "The gate is clear."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

On the wall, Matt turned his attention to cutting the power lines while Dom moved the bodies of the guards they'd found on the parapets, then rejoined him.

Dom dropped from the top of the wall, landing in the courtyard, her momentum carrying her into a low crouch.  To her right, Matt lowered a dead guard to the flagstone pavement.  Before either of them spoke, another sentry stepped out of a low doorway on the south side of the gate tower.  She dropped him with a single three-round burst that punched him back into the room he'd just left.

Matt followed up, tossing a concussion grenade through the stone opening.

Dom flattened herself against the stone wall of the gate tower a moment before the blast, a heavy _thump_ that rumbled through the soles of her boots, echoed in the room.

Four more guards burst out of a door further down.  Matt tapped the trigger of his silenced MP5 twice, sending both men tumbling across the ground.  The other two ran another couple of steps before Dom cut them down.  Both men collapsed like their legs had been yanked out from under them.

"We're moving," Matt announced.  They had to take good advantage of the darkness; it wouldn't last long.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Benny Ray hunched a little lower, his right eye pressed against the rubber-rimmed eyepiece of his low-light sniper-scope.  From his vantage point thirty feet above the bailey courtyard, he had a clear view of almost all of the entire interior of the castle's ward.  To his left, along the base of the south wall was a long, low building that the satellite photos had revealed was a barracks.  To his right was a smaller, open-sided building that had once been a stable and was now a garage of sorts for the three cars sitting there.  Directly opposite was the castle keep, a four-story tower with an irregular circumference, topped by a spiky array of communications antennae.

He watched Matt and Dom check the barracks while Margo and C.J. checked the motor pool.

"Target," Chance said softly at the sniper's right side.  "Ten o'clock left, on the parapet."

Benny Ray eased the muzzle of his Remington to the left, and the crosshairs centered on the magnified image of a guard standing in a half-crouch, holding a general-purpose machine gun and pulling a bead on Shepherd.  "Got 'im."

The Remington's loud report echoed over the landscape.  The target went down.

"Hit," Chance said.  "Clean kill."

"Damned straight," Benny Ray replied softly.

"Target.  Top of the tower, left side."

Benny Ray saw the man peeking through one of the rampart openings on the third floor.  _Probably tryin' to see what was goin' on_ , he realized.  The man held a machine gun in his hands.

The sniper fired.

"Hit," Chance said.  "He's down, but I can't tell if he's out."

"He's out," Benny Ray assured his spotter.  "I saw his brains splatter."

"They're going into the tower," the handsome black man said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The men they faced inside the castle walls were not well-trained soldiers, probably nothing more than Moldovian regulars, and they quickly fell under the trained fire of Shepherd and his team.  But now Matt had a hard choice, tactically speaking.  Since they didn't know exactly where the scientists were being held, they needed to search the entire structure, clearing it as they went.  Given the architecture of the castle, that meant starting down in the old dungeons and working their way up, or starting at the very top and working their way down.  A wrong decision could cost the hostages their lives.

Shepherd wasn't sure what it was that drew his attention to Dom, but he met her eyes and nodded.  "Bottom up," he said, somehow knowing that that was what she'd been thinking.

She nodded her agreement.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

C.J. tossed in a concussion grenade as the others pressed back against the keep wall.  The ensuing blast rang though the tower like the tolling of a huge bell.  Matt followed up, hurling in a flashbang.  As the last detonation died, he was through the door his MP5 leveled for action.  "Passageway cleared!" he called.  "Move!"

The others rushed in, leapfrogging down a darkened corridor that was littered with wood splinters, blast-loosened stones, and two bodies.  Working as a single-unit they worked their way up through the dungeon, basement, first floor, then the second.  On the third floor they found the missing scientists.  Their single guard already lie dead, compliments of Chance and Benny Ray.

"Benny Ray," Matt's voice said into the sniper's ear.

"Roger, boss."

"We have the scientists.  What's Adwar's ETA?"

"Less than four minutes if he's on time."

"Roger," Shepherd replied.  "As soon as he's down, beat feet down to the rally point."

"Roger that, Major."

Matt watched Dom slip out of the room even as C.J. and Margo moved to the hostages, checking for any injuries.  _She's going for whatever she can find on what Adwar's got planned_ , he realized.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The Black BMW rumbled around the sharp turn, then slowed and rolled up to the gate tower, stopped by the closed gate.  The driver honked as Benny Ray centered the crosshairs of his scope on the back of Adwar's head.  Before the man could lean over and order the driver to get out to see what the problem was, the sniper pulled the trigger.  An instant later he dropped the driver as well.

"Major, target is down," the sniper announced.  "We're headin' for the rally point."

"Roger, that," Shepherd replied in his ear.  "We're heading down with the scientists now."

Matt turned back to look at the scientists.  "Listen up, people," he said.  "I want you to make sure that you all stay together.  Hold hands, so no one gets lost.  If anyone wanders off, we won't be able to come back for them, understand?"

Margo repeated the comments in French, then in German, just to be sure.  The scientists all nodded, looking frightened, but eager to leave.

Matt and Margo took point, leading the men and women through the hallways and down the stairs.  C.J. followed, protecting the civilians' six as they made their way to the entrance hall.  Standing at the open doors they could hear the distant sound of an approaching helicopter.

"Where's Dom?" Margo asked, looking around for the woman.

"Looking for what Adwar had in mind," Matt replied.

"She'd better hurry," Margo replied.

A shadow passed over the courtyard, the Pave Low III slowing as it neared the castle.  Drifting above the structure, the wind from the rotor wash blasted across the bailey like a hurricane. 

"Pave Low," C.J. said, almost reverently.  "Come to poppa."

The MH-53J moved slowly across the sky until it was hovering forty-feet above the castle keep, the rear hatch already coming down.  It moved closer, skimming over the castle's ramparts, slowly turning, and finally lowering itself to the flagstones. 

"Let's get these people out of here!" Matt shouted above the whopping sound of the rotor.  "Go!  Go!"

The line of former-hostages darted out from the entrance hall, doubling over low as they passed beneath the shining arc of the helicopters' still-circling blades.  The line was kept straight by Matt, Margo and C.J., who stood to either side, their weapons pointed at the sky, waving them along.

"Thought you'd like to know, you've got people coming up the road!" yelled a young man who appeared from the rear of the chopper to help the scientists on-board.

Matt swore under his breath, then spoke into his lip mike.  "Chance, Benny Ray, we've got company coming, get down here – now!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Benny Ray covered the hostages' escape.  Once they were inside the Pave Low, he quickly packed his Remington.  He and Chance started down through the trees toward the dirt road.  They had just stepped onto the hardpack when Matt's voice announced in their ears, "Chance, Benny Ray, we've got company coming, get down here, now!"

A dark sedan appeared around the sharp turn leading toward the castle, two men inside already holding weapons at the ready.

Benny Ray and Chance both dove for cover as the men opened fire.  The sniper heard a soft grunt as he came up on his knees, firing on the vehicle.  A moment later Chance joined him.  The sedan's driver flopped over the steering wheel and the car bumped off the road, slamming into the trunk of a thick tree.

The two men moved in quickly but cautiously, making sure the occupants were dead before heading for the closed gate.  Skirting around Adwar's car they pulled the heavy gate open.

Benny Ray started through, then paused when Chance fell back against the outer wall, sucking in deep breaths, his eyes half-closed.  For the first time the sniper noticed the blood staining the uniform at Chance's leg and hip.  "Damn, why didn't you say somethin'?" he asked.

"No time," the black man panted, pushing off the wall.  "Let's go."

Benny Ray immediately stepped up, slipping an arm around the black man's waist.  At least he could help take some of the weight off the man's leg.

Chance moved to pull away, but the sniper said, "Let me help."

"Thanks," Chance replied after a brief pause.

Together they started across the courtyard.  Chance managed to match the pace the sniper set for several yards, but then his leg simply refused to cooperate, a burning intense pain locking the muscles in place.  He groaned.

Benny Ray felt Chance stumble as his leg refused to support his weight.  Then he fell with a groan, dragging the sniper down with him.  "Chance?" he called, the first wave of panic washing over him.

Twisting, the sniper could see the Pave Low, so close and so far out of reach at the same time.  "Chance," he called again, his voice rising slightly.  He shook the black man, but there was no response.  Chance was out cold.

"Damn," Benny Ray hissed.  He pushed the man off his chest and scrambled to his knees.  He couldn't leave Chance behind.  He couldn't.  He looked back at the chopper.  Shepherd was moving toward him.  Relief flooded back.  "Everybody comes home," he half-growled, grabbing Chance under the shoulders and starting to haul him to his feet.  "You hear me?  Everybody comes home, damn it.  You'd better hold, amigo, or so help me, I'll kick your sorry ass all the way back to California."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The young airman appeared again, yelling to Shepherd.  "We've got another chopper coming in!  Radar ID says it's a Moldovian military gunship!"

Matt was listening to the young man, but he was watching Benny Ray helping Chance.  Something was wrong – very wrong.  Then, without warning, Chance went down.  His mind racing, he grabbed Margo's arm as she went to climb into the Pave Low behind the last of the hostages.  "Margo," he yelled over the noise of the engine, "you and C.J. get these people out of here!"

She looked confused.  "Why?  We—"

Matt pointed back to Chance and Benny Ray.  Margo's eyes rounded.  "I'll get Chance and we'll get out on our own," Shepherd shouted.

Margo wanted to object, but there was no time.  "Good luck!"

"We'll call on the SATCOM at 2100, let you know what's up."

She nodded, then disappeared inside.

"Get out of here!" Matt told the young airman, who nodded, then disappeared after Margo.  Turning, he noticed that Dom was back.  "Get on-board, there's a military chopper comin' in!"

"Must be Soroki!" she replied.  "I'll stay.  You'll need someone who speaks the language.  I have contacts, contingencies."

Shepherd's lips disappeared into a thin line, but he nodded curtly.  Together they sprinted to join Benny Ray and Chance as the Pave Low lifted off.

The sniper and Matt were able to lift Chance to his feet, supporting the unconscious man between them.  "The cars," Dom snapped, heading for the three vehicles sitting in the old stables.  They followed, Benny Ray and Matt half-carrying, half-dragging Chance between them.

Dom climbed into a tan BMW, quickly checking for keys.  She found them tucked above the driver's sun visor.  She had the motor humming before Matt and Benny Ray settled Chance into the back seat.  Benny Ray climbed in next, Matt opting for the passenger seat.  Shepherd immediately fished into his fieldkit, pulling out two field dressings.

"Chance?" Benny Ray said, maneuvering the man into his lap so his head rested against the sniper's shoulder.  "Chance?"

Pain-glazed eyes fluttered sluggishly open.  "Benny Ray?" he groaned, looking confused.

"Easy," the sniper replied.  "We're getting' the hell out of Dodge, amigo."

Chance nodded, the memories filtering back in around the burning in his leg.  "Sounds like… a good idea."

Matt swung around in his seat and leaned into the back seat.  Straining forward, he was able to tie the dressings over the two bleeding wounds.  "Chance, you hang in there, you hear me?"

"Loud and," the injured man replied airily.

Dom pulled out, heading straight for the now-open gate.  Swerving around Adwar's BMW, she made it to the road.  A kilometer away from the castle she pulled the sedan into the trees and stopped.

"What're you doin', lady?" Benny Ray snapped.

"Shh," she replied, cocking her hear to one side, listening.

Matt frowned, then he heard it – the chopper.  _How'd she do that?_ he wondered.

A Vietnam-era Huey passed over them, heading straight toward the castle.  Dom waited a few more seconds, then pulled back onto the road, speeding along the narrow path as quickly as she dared.  "If it's Soroki, he'll set down to see what happened.  That should give us the time we need."

"Where are we going?" Matt asked.

"Back to Olga's."

"Listen, lady," Benny Ray hissed as he leaned forward, gripping the top of her seat.  "Chance needs a doctor – _now_."

"We'll do what we can at the house, then we have to get out of the country," Dom replied, her voice calm and cool.  "We can't get caught here, gentlemen.  I thought that

was clear in the information you were given.  If it comes out that the President knew about this, the Opposition Party will use it to overthrow her government."

"I don't give a damn about the—"

"Benny Ray," Matt interrupted, his voice half-angry, half-frustrated, "that's enough.  She's right.  We can't risk the political future of this country."

"A democratic country at that," Dom added.

The sniper shot an angry glare at the back of Dom's head, but held his tongue.

Chance gasped softly as he tried to move, then added, "She's right, Benny Ray."

"Maybe she is," the sniper admitted, helping Chance sit up a little further so he could see out the rear window of the sedan.  "But I don't gotta like it."

The black man smiled thinly.  It was nice to know your teammates cared about you.  He reached up, holding on to one of Benny Ray's arms, squeezing as a bump sent a spear of agony from hip to knee. 

Benny Ray dipped his head so he spoke next to Chance's ear.  "Hang in there, compadre.  We'll get you out of here."

Chance nodded, his throat tight with the moan that demanded release.  He gave in, darkness sweeping over him once again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They left the stolen car at the edge of town where it was sure to be quickly found and stolen again.  Dom, Matt and Benny Ray ducked into an old, collapsing barn that sat next to an abandoned farmhouse and quickly changed out of their black uniforms, pulling on their civilian clothes again.

When that was done, Shepherd quickly cut Chance out of his ruined jumpsuit, then used it to drape over the man's shoulders.

Working in silence, Dom and Benny Ray quickly redressed the man's injuries.

"This one's just a graze," Dom said, looking up at Shepherd and indicating a long graze that ran along the top of the man's hip.

"Not this one," the sniper added, his gaze on the angry red wound that puckered the man's upper thigh.  There was a matching wound at the back of the man's leg.

"Bone's not broke," Chance said, his voice tight with pain as Benny Ray continued to work.  "I can walk if I have to, sir."  He started to push himself up.

"Right now you don't have to," Matt said, reaching out to keep the man seated.

With the wounds tended the best they could, they helped Chance to his feet.  Benny Ray held the man's wool pants while Chance stepped into them.  Shirt, sweater, then socks and shoes followed, the threesome doing the majority of the work for the injured man.  Once back in his civilian clothes, Shepherd wrapped him in an old blanket he'd found to help fight back the shock that was beginning to threaten.  They moved him to a pile of old straw and eased him down.

"Need some drugs?" Benny Ray asked about twenty minutes later when a soft gasp from Chance drew him back to the man's side.  He knelt down next to him, one hand resting lightly on the black man's shoulder.  He could feel the start of a fever rising from the man's skin, turning the wool sweater warm.

Chance shook his head.  "Wanna keep a clear head."

Benny Ray nodded, giving the man's shoulder a gentle squeeze.  "Yeah, I'd do the same.  But if it gets too bad, you just let me know."

"It's not going to get that bad," Chance said emphatically.  "I'm not gonna let it."

"Mind over matter?"

The quickest flash of a grin was the man's reply.  "Where's Dom?"

"Findin' us some safe transpo."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Head's up," Matt called softly from his position near a long-broken window.  "We've got company coming."

Dom returned with an old, rusted German-made car.  They carefully helped Chance to the rear seat, then carried their gear out to the vehicle and tossed it into the trunk.

"Where are we going?" Matt asked as Dom pulled back onto the road.

"Back to Olga's house.  I have some gear there."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Matt and Benny Ray were both hunched over a map of the local area while Dom and Mrs. Iasi worked over Chance, cleaning his wounds as best they could before bandaging them for their escape.

"Here," Matt said, pointing to a thin red line, "this looks like a major road."

"Out of Kishinev?" Dom asked from across the small room.

"Yeah," Matt replied.  "It runs straight into Romania."

"What's the closest town?" Benny Ray asked.

"Birlad," Mrs. Iasi offered.  "Three hundred kilometers from Bucuresti."

"A chopper can meet us in Birlad," Matt said.  "We have bases in Italy and Turkey it can take us to."

"The hard part will be getting to Kishinev," Mrs. Iasi said.  "If they are looking for you, there is only one road."

"How's he doin'?" Benny Ray asked, looking at Chance.

Dom nodded, "Pretty good.  The infection isn't building too fast and the powder should slow it more.  He's just sleeping."

Matt stood and walked over to look down at the wounded man.  "Glad you had that IV fluid.  He was starting to get a little shocky."

"Like they say, be prepared.  I just wish I had a bag of O-negative," Dom replied.  "But he's doing well."

"Will he be able to travel?"

Dom nodded.  "I think so, and I know he'd tell you he was ready to go."

Shepherd grinned.  "Yeah, he would."  He ran a hand over his hair.  "We call Margo and C.J. at 2100, then we get the hell out of here."

"Sounds good to me," Dom replied.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

It had been dark almost an hour.  Mrs. Iasi had fed them, and they were taking turns watching the driveway from the living room window.  Benny Ray finished his coffee, then headed into the older woman's bedroom to check on Chance.  The man was lying propped up in the bed, working on a bowl of hot soup.  He looked up as the sniper entered.

"Hey, amigo, how're you feelin'?"

Chance grinned and shrugged one shoulder.  "Pretty good."

"The Major tell ya the plan?"

He nodded.  "Make a run for the border."

"They might be lookin' for us."

"We run into trouble, I'll be good to go," Chance assured.

Benny Ray grinned.  "I know ya will."  He glanced back at the door that led into the living room.  "I better get out there.  It's comin' up on my shift."

Chance nodded, knowing that there was something more on the sniper's mind.  And he had a good idea what it was, too.  He'd talk when he was ready, and not before. There was no use asking.

"You get some sleep, amigo," Benny Ray said, then turned and left.  In the living room, he glanced once at Matt, who was sleeping on the sofa, then headed across the room to where Dom sat, watching the driveway.  "I'll take over," he said softly.

She looked up and nodded.  "How is he?"

"Good.  He's eating some soup."

Dom smiled.  "That is good."

Benny Ray shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, then said, "I, uh, wanted t' apologize… for earlier."

Dom looked back at the road.  "You don't have anything to apologize for," she said softly.  "You were worried about your friend."

"I was thinkin' about Chance, not the mission."  He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.  "I don't usually let that happen."

She glanced up at him briefly.  "Okay, apology accepted."  She stood and he sat down in her place.  "Thank you."

He nodded.

Dom crossed to an overstuffed chair and sat down, her eyes closing.  _Why do I think that was a speech coming from that man?_ she wondered as sleep took her away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The drive from Lubny to Kishinev was tense.  The few cars or trucks on the road were all potential enemies.  Dom drove, Matt and Benny Ray each keeping a close watch on the road and the other vehicles, their weapons held ready to use in their laps. But the ride concluded uneventfully in the Moldovian capital city.

Dom drove them to a nightclub where an older man met them in the alley and provided them with another, faster car – a Mercedes with a few "extras" as the man explained.  He left them as soon as they transferred their gear and Chance into the  new car.

Dom held out the keys to Matt.  "Delta Force, right?"

Shepherd's eyebrows arched, but he didn't respond.

Dom sighed softly.  "Okay, it's classified.  Specialized driving training for situations like we might face?" she asked hopefully.

Matt grinned as he nodded.

"Good.  You drive," she concluded, dropping the keys into Shepherd's open hand.

"Benny Ray," Shepherd said, "you take the back.  Make sure Chance is okay."

The sniper nodded, then climbed in. 

Dom slid into the passenger seat, then reached under the seat and pulled out a waiting weapon.

"Nice accessories," Matt said as he climbed in behind the wheel.

They left Kishinev, taking a mountain road that was only a little better then a goat track, but it led them to the highway to Birlad, which was a narrow paved two lanes.  There wasn't much traffic at one o'clock in the morning.  Not many had the guts, or a death wish.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

As they traveled further from Kishinev they passed through tiny villages and checker-board fields interspersed with thickets of roadside trees.  After a half-hour it began to rain.

Large water drops and the wipers beat out a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm against the windshield.  Dom still sat in the front passenger seat, Benny Ray in the back with Chance, who was sleeping or unconscious.  Shepherd's attention was on the road.

Dom shifted slightly, checking the rearview mirror.

"Something?" Shepherd asked.

"I can't see anything," she admitted, "but there's something out there."

Benny Ray twisted around and peered into the darkness.  "I don't see anything."

"Me either," Dom agreed.  "But I _feel_ something."

Neither man disagreed with her assessment.  They simply focused their attention and waited.  Three minutes later it happened.  Rounds struck the Mercedes, but they didn't penetrate the additional armor that had been added to the vehicle.

Shepherd pressed the accelerator down and the car sprang forward, roaring down the wet road. They sped through the darkness, the road snaking back into mountains that would flatten out to foothills as they crossed the border into Romania.  Shepherd noted a number of possible helicopter landing zones they could use for an emergency pickup, but he really wanted to get over the border in the Mercedes.  Forcing Chance out into the cold, wet night might just kill him.

"We can't outrun them," Matt said.  "The car's too heavy."

Dom leaned back and pointed to the seat.  "There are some PDMs in a storage space behind there."

"PDMs?" Matt echoed, then smiled.  "Now you're talking."

"Hell yeah," Benny Ray grinned, already pulling the section of seat away and tugging free a bulging nylon bag.

"Should be some caltrops, too," Dom added.

Benny Ray pulled the bag open.  It was full of one-pound, three-sided canisters about the size of a nine-volt lantern battery.  The M-86 Pursuit Deterrent Munitions, or PDM, had been designed to aid Special Forces teams being chased by larger enemy forces.  The sniper knew that all he had to do was pull the pin and toss the mine out the window or the car door.  When it hit the ground, seven mono-filament lines, each six meters long, would be ejected.  When anything touched one of the lines, a small charge would pop the M-86 up about a meter into the air, where it would explode.  Another smaller bag inside the first was full of the promised small, three-pointed spikes that did the same kind of damage to tires that they once did to horses' hooves.

"Hurry up, Benny Ray," Matt said, his gaze flickering from the wet road to the rearview mirror and back again.  "Looks like they're gaining on us.  Probably figured out that we're who they're looking for."

The sniper checked on Chance, trying to make sure he wouldn't slide off the seat if it got rough.  Then he opened his door and, leaning out into the rain, lobbed three PDMs into the center of the road.  That done, Benny Ray tossed out a couple of handfuls of caltrops for good measure.

It didn't take long for the pursuing vehicles to hit a M-86 line.  The mine exploded.  Fragmentation perforated one of the three pursuing cars, touching off the gas tank.  The Land Rover exploded in a blinding fireball.  A sedan spun off the road, trying to avoid the fireball and disappeared over the edge of the road.  A few seconds later and another fireball lit up the darkness.

"Roadblock!" Matt yelled, watching the whole scene in the rearview mirror.  There was one Land Rover left on their tail.

Benny Ray opened the car door again and lobbed out two more PDMs.  The third pursuing car ran right over one and exploded.

The sniper had just pulled himself back into the protected Mercedes when they ran into a hail of fire.  Dom and Benny Ray both opened up from small gunports that had been built into the vehicle.  Unfortunately the car quickly began to fill with smoke.

"Cease fire!" Shepherd shouted as the Mercedes' rear end fishtailed on the wet road.  "You'll gas us out!"

Staying off the brake, Matt danced the wheel lightly back and forth.  He managed to regain control a moment before he plowed between two Land Rovers parked on the road.  He clipped one, spinning it around.

In the rearview mirror he could see men scrambling for the two cars.  Moments later they were following them.

Benny Ray waved the smoke away, trying to see out the window.  "Damn!  I've got two PDMs left, Boss."

"Use 'em!" Matt barked.

The sniper grabbed the devices and opened the car door.  He tossed them out onto the wet road.  A few moments later one of the Land Rovers hit a line and the mine exploded, lifting the vehicle off the pavement.

"Damn it!" Benny Ray hissed.  "Still got one comin', Major."

"Curve comin' up," Matt said.  "Can you get a shot?"

"I'll get it," the sniper assured, rolling down his window.

As soon as they entered the curve Benny Ray eased his head, arms and shoulders out of the window.  It was a tight fit for the broad-shouldered man.  He readied his HK MP5 and waited for the Land Rover to come into view.  As soon as it did, he fired.

The pursuing vehicle swerved wildly as the driver tried to recover, but the wet road was unforgiving.  Two of the wheels lifted off the pavement, and Benny Ray watched as the Rover slowly tipped over, sliding along the road until it came to a stop.  "We're clear!" he called, then pulled himself back into the Mercedes.

The excitement past, the sniper immediately rolled up the window, then turned to Chance, who had slid off the seat when Shepherd had snaked past the roadblock.  Carefully lifting him back onto the long seat, Benny Ray pillowed the injured man against his chest, then checked his injuries, hoping that they wouldn't be bleeding again.  They weren't.

"How is he?" Matt asked.

"Out cold, but he's not bleedin'."

"Here," Dom said, handing back an ammonia capsule.  "See if that wakes him up.  Make sure he didn't hit his head."

Benny Ray took the capsule and cracked it open, then waved it under Chance's nose.

The black man gasped, then coughed and rolled his head.

The sniper quickly tossed the capsule out the window.  "Hey, amigo, you with us?"

Chance's eyes blinked open, but they were glazed with pain and the beginnings of a fever.  "Benny Ray?"

"Yeah, easy," he said as the pilot started to sit up.  "Take it easy.  How do ya feel?"

Chance relaxed against Benny Ray, realizing for the first time that the man was wet.  He swallowed and thought for a moment before he said, "Leg hurts."

"That all?"

Another long pause as the black man considered the question.  "Yeah," he finally said, "I think so.  Why are you wet?"

"You missed all the action, compadre," Benny Ray said. 

"Just my luck," was the mumbled reply.

"We're coming up on the Romanian border," Matt said.  "Hang in there, Chance. We're almost home."

"Yes, sir, I'll do that," Chance said, his voice dry, but his conviction strong.

Shepherd crossed over the border and continued southwest.   They passed more small villages as they dropped in elevation, getting closer to Birlad.  If all went as planned they would meet Margo and C.J. there and change cars again.  Then it was a straight run into Bucharest where a chopper or plane would be waiting to fly them to Italy.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

And the plan did play itself out as they'd hoped.  In the bay of the large chopper, en-route to Italy, Matt sat, watching C.J. and Benny Ray as they talked to Chance, keeping him awake while two Air Force medics worked on his injuries.  Margo sat to his left, watching the injured man as well.

"It was good to see you," Shepherd said just loud enough for Margo to hear.

She looked back at him, a tired smile on her face.  "That goes both ways.  Any trouble?"

"A little, but our contact had packed some party favors," Matt said.

 "Where is she?"

"Stayed in Birlad.  I saw the people she met.  Funny thing is, they look a lot like we do."

Margo's eyes rounded.  "Decoys?"

"Would be my bet," Shepherd said.  "I have a feeling we're going to hear on the news that Soroki's had some kind of an accident."

Margo nodded.  "When I was with the Agency I heard rumors about a woman agent with a code-name of Voudou.  She was supposed to be good – very good."

"And you think it might be this Dom?"

Margo shrugged.  "Who knows, but if it is, nothing we hear about Soroki will surprise me."

Matt and Margo looked up as Benny Ray joined them, a relieved grin on his face. "The medics say that Chance is gonna be just fine.  They've got him on IVs and they're givin' him blood.  He's doing fine – sleepin'.  C.J.'s gonna sit with him for now."

Shepherd sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.  "It could've been worse, a lot worse."

"You got that right, Boss."  The sniper looked at Margo.  "The scientists okay?"

She nodded.  "A little shaken up, but they'll be fine.  They were taken for debriefing as soon as we touched down.  They're probably already back home by now.  Did Dom say if she found what Adwar was working on?"

Matt's eyes widened slightly.  "No, she didn't."  He chuckled softly.  "But then I didn't think to ask either."

"That woman's spooky," Benny Ray offered, shaking his head.  "We gonna hang in Italy 'til Chance is ready to go home?" he asked.

Matt thought a moment, then nodded.  "Might as well.  Trout owes us that much."

Margo smiled.  "Hope _he_ sees it that way.  I could use the time to do a little shopping."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

# Three Weeks Later

 

Chance lay, stretched out on the couch, watching C.J. and Benny Ray arguing about something unimportant.  He grinned and shook his head.  They'd turned it into an art form.  He looked up as Matt and Margo headed down the stairs, both of them carrying bags of take-out from Mr. Wang's.  His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd been hungry for almost an hour, but he just hadn't had the heart to stop the performance to ask Benny Ray or C.J. for something to eat.  It was, after all, for his benefit.

"Hey, guys," he called to the still-debating men.

Benny Ray looked up first.  "Yeah, you need something, amigo?"

"Peace and quiet?" Margo asked hopefully as she and Matt reached the bottom step.

"Something wrong?" C.J. asked, glancing around, looking confused.

Margo looked from C.J to Benny Ray, then shook her head.  They didn't even know what they were doing.  Or if they did, they had no plans to stop.  "Anyone hungry?"

"Me," Chance said, levering up to sit on the couch.  His leg was still held immobile in a velcro-strapped wrap that encased his limb from upper thigh to ankle. And it still hurt whenever he moved.  He gritted his teeth and scooted to the edge of the sofa, then leaned over so he could use his good leg to push himself to his feet.

Matt reached out to steady Chance on his way to the kitchen table, bag of food cradled in one arm.  "Come on, people, chow time."

C.J. smiled.  "Did I ever tell you about the time I—"

"You did," Benny Ray interrupted.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," the Brit protested.

"I don't gotta know _which_ tall tale you're gonna tell, I know I heard 'em all."

C.J. scowled.  "How do you know you've heard them all?" he asked.  "I'm making up new ones all the time!"

"That's the problem, amigo," Benny Ray half-growled at C.J as he grabbed Chance around the waist and helping him hobble across the floor toward the kitchen table.

"Thanks," Chance said softly.

"Any time," the sniper drawled.

They had just settled around the table when a voice called from the stairs, "Matt? Anyone home?"

"Trout," Shepherd greeted when the man reached the bottom of the stairs.  "Hungry?"

The older man shook his head as he walked over to the table to join them.  He was carrying a metal briefcase and set it on the table.  "Mr. Walker, I hear your rehab   is going well."

Chance nodded.  "Should be back up to speed in a couple of months."

"That's good to hear," Trout replied, his words sincere.  "And I wanted to drop this little, uh, token of our appreciation off."

The team members grinned.  "And how goes the state of research?" Matt asked.

Trout grinned.  "Fine, just fine.  There are some very happy scientists back with their families, thanks to you.  Good job, people."

"And Dom?" C.J. asked.

Trout smiled thinly.  "I have a feeling she always lands on her feet."

Several small snorts met the comment, but it was Margo who asked, "She took care of Soroki?"

"Let's just say that there's an opening in the President's Administration," Trout said. 

"She's an assassin?" Benny Ray asked, hie eyes rounding.

"She's whatever she needs to be," Margo replied for Trout, and the older man nodded.

"She also sends her regards," Trout said.  "I believe her exact words were, 'I look forward to the next time.'"

"Not sure I do," Benny Ray said.

Chance shot the sniper a smile.  "I don't know," he almost purred.  "I think she liked me."

"In your dreams, mate," C.J. said, shaking his head.  "She likes us, uh . . . shorter guys."

Margo laughed.  "Oh, we saw how much she liked you."

"That's it exactly!" C.J. countered.  "You know she likes you if she kicks your arse."

"Sounds like your kind of a woman, C.J.," Benny Ray teased.

"Any of you should be that lucky," Trout said stopping the argument before it could start, then turned to go.

"Come on, Trout," Matt said.  "Sit down and have a little Chinese."

He turned and considered for a moment, then grabbed a chair and sat between Margo and C.J.  "Pass the Moo Goo Gai Pan?"

The End


End file.
